


The Very Model of a Modern Major-General

by whopooh



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Gen, fluff and operettas, pirates of penzance - Freeform, there is no way Phryne never teased him about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whopooh/pseuds/whopooh
Summary: Jack had revealed far too much about himself when he told Phryne he had once played the Major-General inPirates of Penzance. Luckily, it seems Phryne has decided not to tease him about that. Or so he thought...





	The Very Model of a Modern Major-General

Jack Robinson is aware he is playing a dangerous game. 

He has tried to not give way to Miss Fisher’s curiosity about himself, but on that theatre stage, when she challenged him, he had told her more than he’d meant to. When he quoted those lines about Cleopatra he had shown her too much of his heart; he was sure he didn’t imagine the catch of her breath. When he told her not only that he had been on stage, but also in what role, he had revealed too much of his youthful past. It had been a school play and he wasn’t a good enough singer to have one of the leading roles, yet somehow ended up with the most difficult song of them all, as well as the task of impersonating an old man at 16 years of age. 

The humour in her laughter at that admission had pierced right through him. 

It all seems to have gone well enough, though. Phryne hasn’t held either revelation against him, and he’s relieved and rather grateful for that.

He should have realised she has only been biding her time.

It happens a couple of weeks later. Phryne shows up at a high society murder at Earl Atwell’s mansions, called there by the hostess, and she doesn’t pay the slightest attention to Jack’s attempts to dissuade her presence.

He sets up a makeshift interrogation room in a side parlour and is just preparing to call the hostess of the evening for an initial questioning when Phryne shows up by his side.

“You’ll get much more out of her if you let me lead the questioning, Jack,” she whispers in his ear, her breath hot against his skin and her hand landing lightly on his forearm. Her body is far too close for comfort, her eyes large and innocent – well, fake innocent most likely – as she looks at him entreatingly. “Lady Atwell is a friend of Aunt P’s and thinks _very_ highly of my detecting skills.”

He is about to answer with his patented “No thank you, Miss Fisher,” but she’s already moved on. Reaching the door, she looks out and calls for Lady Atwell to join them.

Jack shrugs. He supposes he can handle her taking over this interrogation. He does like to watch her work, and it is a milieu she is more accustomed to, after all. _Much_ more accustomed to, he thinks as she bids Lady Atwell to sit down and kindly asks how she is holding up. Already in that single answer, Phryne receives excellent information of the victim’s situation and the whereabouts of several of the suspects. 

Jack catches Phryne’s eye as she reaches out to give Lady Atwell an elegant handkerchief, which the lady gratefully accepts. He tries not to show how impressed he is, but a content smile on her lips shows he must have failed spectacularly. 

Phryne turns to the old woman again.

“Can you remember anything more, Lady Atwell?” she asks, receiving a shake of the head as answer.

“I can’t believe this happened, Miss Fisher,” Lady Atwell wails. “In our respectable home!” 

She dabs at her eyes with the handkerchief, and then she seems to reach a conclusion and straightens her back, her face returning to her normal composure. 

“How long will you need this parlour, Miss Fisher? And do you need tea to sustain you in your work?”

Phryne casts Jack an assessing, challenging glance before she answers. 

“I think I’ll have to ask my plucky assistant.”

Jack checks to see if Miss Williams is about to join them, but there is no movement anywhere. After a second he realises Phryne is looking expectantly at him. 

“Er, what?” is all he manages to say.

“Do you want tea, Inspector?” she asks, but she doesn’t wait for his reply. “Come to think of it, I’m sure the Inspector wants some tea, Lady Atwell, he’s ever so adventury.” She makes a small pause, putting on a show of thinking deeply. “If you have something small to eat, he’s all for matters vegetable, animal, and mineral.”

Finally, the penny drops, and Jack realises what she is doing. He can’t stop himself from groaning out loud. He quickly regains his equilibrium and tries to look like that sound couldn’t possibly have come from him.

Lady Atwell shoots them a confused look before she rises resolutely.

“I will see what I can do, Miss Fisher.”

As the older lady leaves the room, Jack pins Phryne with a sharp look, but she just smiles beatifically at him.

“Jack, what would you say about the progress in modern gunnery, does this culprit know more tactics than a novice in a nunnery?” She can’t stop her voice from turning into sing-song at the ridiculous words. 

He keeps his face as inscrutable as possible.

“You will not make me…” he starts, but she interrupts him.

“You are the very model of a Detective Inspector, of course, Jack,” she says. “Of course you’d never quote… the croaking chorus from The Frogs of Aristophanes!”

She looks so pleased with herself Jack can’t help but smile at her. 

“I’d never,” he says, softly. 

He knows he will relent. He briefly wonders if there is anything he can truly deny this woman, especially when she challenges him, her stubborn jaw set like that. He tries to fight it, he really does. But her breathing is quick, her eyes large and happy, and then she turns her mouth into a little pout and starts batting her eyelids at him. That is not playing fair. He tilts his head, trying not to pay attention to the butterflies in his stomach, produced from the joy of her playfulness. 

He rolls his eyes slightly before he starts off, quietly first, but getting bolder with every rhyme.

“I am the very model of a modern Major-General,  
I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral.” 

He takes a small pause to check her reaction, then continues:

“I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical  
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical,  
I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,  
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical…”

“So it was rot!” she exclaims, laughing at him, an easy, comfortable laugh.

“What was?” he asks, interrupted just as he was getting to the harder parts.

“That you couldn’t remember the lyrics!”

He looks at her for a second, embarrassed.

“I suppose I had a sudden jolt of memory,” he defends himself, satisfied when she tilts her head but doesn’t speak, if only for a moment.

“Oh, but you have to do the last stanza!” she says. “I need to hear you call yourself _plucky_.” Both her eyes and her voice are laughing.

He draws himself up to his full length, trying for authority, and shakes his head.

“I think that’s enough for today, Miss Fisher. We have a crime to solve, after all.”

Phryne looks like she wants to protest, but reluctantly concedes. At that moment, the maid enters with a loaded tea tray, and Jack is sure he can discern at least meat and vegetables on it, but possibly no minerals. His lips turn up into an expectant smile as he watches the tray find its place on the desk.

“At our next nightcap, then,” she says as she turns toward him. 

He doesn’t understand exactly how she has managed to get that close to him that quickly, but he stops breathing as she reaches out to stroke his lapels. Her eyes are on his. 

“The full song. I won’t allow any excuses.” 

He has no choice but to nod. He has given her the upper hand; he will just have to pay the price. 

Phryne smiles.

“And considering I already know who’s guilty, _Major-General_ ,” she says, enjoying his wince at the title, “that nightcap will most likely be tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realised we have not used the Major-General's song as much as it deserves in fic! Thus, this ficlet was born. 
> 
> Thank you to Fire_Sign for reading and suggesting improvements.
> 
> The full text of the Major-General's song [can be read here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Major-General%27s_Song) . And it can be [listened to here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rs3dPaz9nAo)
> 
> And for a lovely take in a more serious setting of this song, please go read CupidAtTheFlight's ["Major problems"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2783756/chapters/6278618)


End file.
